The Bane of the Empire

Chapter 5

When Hunter walked back to the camp the fire was burning low and Gavin's snores filled the silence. The image of his friend, asleep with his mouth open was seared into his mind from the countless nights he had kept him awake when they were younger. He shook his head, a small smile on his lips from the sudden memory of his youth. Some things never changed.

But when he added another log to the fire, enough that it would last for the rest of the night, he noticed the open flap of the middle tent.

He could see her sitting with her back to him, he arms wrapped around her knees. He didn't trust her, despite how fast his friends believed her story. Sitting on the log facing the three tents, he drew his sword from its scabbard.

Night-Slayer­

It was given to him by his father. The ivory pommel was engraved with a wolf's head. The symbol of his house. Hunter ran his hand along the flat of the blade. He could feel the vibrations of battles this sword had seen. The stories it would tell—of brutal battlefields, fallen soldiers, and triumphant victories.

But his thoughts were interrupted by quiet sobs. Looking up he watched her shoulders shake as the glint of tears ran down her cheeks. Her sobs shook her body, but he felt no sympathy for her. Her story was the same as every other person on the dirt road. Villages were burned down and people were murdered every month. Those who were unfortunate enough to survive lived the rest of their life scavenging for food or selling themselves in the night.

A gust of wind sent the canvas flap flying open and she turned to grab the fabric before it took the tent with her. She did not have to worry, he had securely strung up his tent that morning. However, when she turned, her hazel eyes that had shown a fire begging to be lit when she stood chest to chest with him was gone. Only sadness met him and he had this unnatural urge to run to her, wipe the tears from her face and hold her in his arms.

The very thought of doing so froze him in place, the thudding of his heart the only sign that he was alive. The Night-Slayer clutched in his hand, he held her gaze. After a moment, she pulled the fabric closed, fastening the ties for good measure.

Returning Night-Slayer to its scabbard, Hunter laid back on the ground. Ignoring the girl's sobs and his foreign urges. He looked up at the night sky and found the cluster of five stars in the shape of two mountains—The Twin Peaks.

The Northern Mountains were named after the constellation. His father had told him stories of the mountain range when he was just a boy. He could hear his voice in his head saying, "Mountains were gateways between worlds. There was a time when travellers would walk through the valley of The Twin Peaks and find themselves in foreign lands. Travelling from places covered in snow to hot planes covered by sand."

But those were stories told to a child as entertainment. If any enchantments had existed, they were locked away. Now the mountains were just mountains. The stars were just stars.

And he was just a man.

Hunter closed his eyes and with the warmth of the fire he drifted off to sleep.

When morning came, he had awoken with the decision to continue his journey as planned, without the addition of Dawn.

"How can you say that? She needs our help!" Tal exclaimed. He poured water over the fire, a satisfying sizzle sounding from the hot embers. But the fire was not the only one that burned hot that morning.

He turned to Tal, to woman livid from the thought of leaving the young chit behind. He raised a brow, somewhat shocked by her reaction. If anyone understood the dire need to continue their journey it should have been the ones he was travelling with.